Gus' Story

[Jugendkrieger]

Memories of those long ago days,

In 1942 I went to school in Freiburg near the black forest. In October of that year I was drafted in to the service of the Wehrmacht, I volunteered for the Luftwaffe. I went to Boot camp in Toul, Nancy France. I was 18 years old when they shipped me out to France. From March to fall of 1943 I was stationed as a guard on an airfield in Holland. How proud we were to be part of the great war machine! We had 40 Focke Wulf 190 Fighter planes. At 5 O’clock every morning some of the engines were started with ear splitting noise. That summer American bombers bombed our airfield unopposed. I remember thirty or forty, Or maybe it was even fifty 15 foot deep craters in our runway. The stalls where the planes were parked were undamaged however; Most of our planes had simply left. “Bombs dropped in Holland are not dropped in Germany” We worked on the holes and then worked on extending the runways for the new planes without propellers, or at least that was the rumor. What nonsense we thought! Nobody told us about jets. In spring of 1944 We went to southern Germany for basic glider training school. A small plane on one skid pulled up by a winch on a motor car. Then we trained on small motor planes, with instructions on courses of navigation, meteorology, Technical stuff.. Late may or June of 1944 there suddenly was no more flying lessons, We were sent back to France, this time Bar-le-Duc. This time infantry training, Marching, Target practice, Drill. What happened we thought! At that time we did not know that Germany was running out of gas, quite literally. As we were taught, a good soldier, especially a German soldier, follows orders, Period. Well, at that time the Americans had successfully bombed Ploesti in Romania,) It was heavily defended though) To my knowledge 80% of Germany’s Gasoline needs came from Ploesti. Albert Speer at Nuremberg: “At that time, The war was lost” Some synthetic oil from coal was produced but that couldn’t meet demands, Much of the German bomber and fighter force was grounded. Experienced and decorated older navigators, Bombardiers, and Pilots joined us as Foot soldiers, They were the big boys to us.
In the summer of 1944 the Russians broke through the German lines and advanced 150 Kilometers to the border of East Prussia. In September they stopped to re-supply. At that time they sent us youngsters out to reestablish a new Eastern Front. We were the 1./Fallschirm-Panzergrenadier Regiment 3 Hermann Goering. All youngsters from some technical school, Mechanics, Ect, Not foot soldiers. We had hoped that they would send us to Italy. There was heavy fighting around casino in the spring.
I spent about 5 Months in trenches and foxholes. From October to November of 44 We were digging the trenches and primitive bunkers, and dugouts all night long. Before that we had just Shooting holes 20 yards apart. 14 hour long, Dark nights with flares going up all night long. From both us and the Russian Trenches, Russian flares were brighter than ours and made a very distinct Shhhh…. Sound, Also Their tracers were dark green, Ours were red. The real enemy was the eternal rain, the mud, and always cold and wet feet, then it was the snow, the cold, and the nasty wind. At night there were some very low flying planes that we used to call sewing machines, They came over our trench and behind shooting straight down at whatever they thought was worth destroying, Always with dark green tracers. Sometimes those fellows would get lost and shoot behind their own lines, Reason for a good laugh. They also dropped poor quality news papers “Why don’t you fellows give up the fight! The war is lost for you! We know that your cartridges are made of steel with a laquer that melts after a few rounds causing your guns to jam, Germany is running out of copper and tin! (Huelsenreisser)”
The Russians also made music for us, “Wenn der weisse flieder wieder blueht” “When the white lilac is blooming again” There were snipers during the day and Machineguns and flares all night. Not to mention those sewing machine fellows. On January 11 1945 in the morning and bright sunshine, With lots of snow on the ground. The Russians attacked next to us. Mortar fire was his main weapon, few tanks or planes. It looks pretty when a mortar shell explodes in white snow, The impact creates a very red ring and a black plume of smoke goes up. After 10 minutes of intense mortar barrage they fired smoke shells. Visibility suddenly went to ten meters or less, Black and grey clouds filled everything. We were Scared to death. But nothing happened. We did not have barbed wire entanglements in front of the trench or anything. We had Antipersonnel mines behind the trench to cover our retreat. The order came to retreat to the second trench 200 meters further west , I lugged my MG42 With me.
A Mortar shell explodes in 1000 little splinters to disable a person, Not to kill I think. Artillery shells are for that, The shrapnel is much much bigger. The “Ratsch-uum” was a Russian artillery piece that fired something like a 10 cm shell almost horizontally that exploded in the air. No more safety in foxholes. We had thick jackets and pants for the winter, I occasionally took shrapnel pieces out of it. The next morning a group of unsuspecting Russians came trudging through the snow towards our old position. These dummies could have seen us if they were paying any attention. They were easily dispatched. More were coming so we continued the retreat, Village to village, farmhouse to farmhouse, over and over again. At one counterattack with one tank the Russians left behind their Machineguns, Submachine guns, and Ammunition in a wooded area, They were scared of us and ran away. On March 15 1945 I was wounded in my left leg by artillery shrapnel. I did not know it until my left leg became so warm. Blood was running inside of my 3 trousers and into my boot. By that time all of my buddies were dead or wounded. The dead were always left behind, Frozen stiff, or frozen to the ground. A much larger piece of shrapnel than the first one ripped through my 3 trousers just behind my left knee Shredding my outer trousers, My wool trousers, and my quilted underwear, Sparing my knee! I stood there in sheer bewilderment… pure chance? Maybe some superior force must have interceded. I could walk though, and we continued the retreat. Walking back I ran into a Ukranian SS unit. They had slaughtered some poor farmers cow. And were frying some parts. It was three of us walking down the road with the cow. Just then a heavy truck picked us up and took us through a burning village. Slowly. The fire was so hot, and made such a racket. The streets were so narrow. Everything glowed but was in shadow at the same time in comparison to the fires awesome brilliance. A few short miles after the burning village the driver stopped and pointed to the first aid station. We thought it looked posh, A fancy farmhouse with all the trimmings. But as we got closer it was a horrible scene beyond all comprehension. 20 young soldiers with blood drenched white bandages waiting to be picked up, Nobody talked. I was one of about 10 wounded men waiting in line with shrapnel wounds. I was still in my bloody torn uniform, limping, Just like everyone else in line. When we got inside some soldiers inside were being operated on. The soldiers were screaming, yelling, moaning. I turned my head and saw an artillery officer, A very small fellow. He was asked questions to fill out a little yellow tag that hung from his uniform. He did not answer. Just looked, nothing, Just a blank stare. They took him away, He was mentally, Emotionally exausted. How could any of the doctors survive such an ordeal? It was the picture of despair. I was incredibly lucky. If that shrapnel had hit me at a slightly different angle, about half an inch, it would have tore my bone apart. And nobody could have helped me get away from the front.

Part two tomorrow
Marc

[Erich Johann]

Thanks for sharing.

[John Wilson]

A good effort, lot's of glaring wrongs but keep at it, it may be picked up by some publisher, I read the wolf thing by mischa defonseca and laughed a lot.
Novels are good to read, truth is different.

[Jugendkrieger]

Can you illustrate the glaring wrongs to me? This is straight from the veterans hand.

He seemed to have a pretty sharp memory of his wartime service, After all those years he knew exactly how to take down our MG42 and told us all kinds of good stories. One of the most notable stories was him trying to figure out how to shoot single shots out of the 42 By unscrewing the booster cone click by click, Getting close( 2-3 Shots ) adjusting it two more times and having the booster cone assembly come completely off with is next shots.

Marc

P.S Here is his picture, and a picture that a fellow unit member took of the Russian belt buckle, off of the belt he wore at wars end

[Jugendkrieger]

Me and him discussing how he carried the MG through combat so many years ago.

[kiler]

Great story. Are you able to contact him and ask if he remembers any names of places in Poland where he fought or if he remembers fighting with Polish soldiers in 1945 near Dresden ? As HG reenactor I would have houndreds of questions to ask.

Waiting for second part.

[Jugendkrieger]

After the Lazarette; (this is where the account gets shaky so you'll have to bear with me)

Later on ambulances(sankas) took me and others to the coast (Baltic sea) and with a small boar to Pillau, to the port at Koenigsberg. We were barracked there. Small planes attacked the barracks, flying very very low. I made eye contact with the tail gunner, But he could not get me because he could not lower his machine gun enough, and I had some cover in a hole. From Pillau by means of a small boat at night to a larger boat we went to Copenhagen and to Lazerett 936. In transit Russian fighter bombers tried to set the ship ablaze and our 20mm AA guns opened up with more earsplitting noise. At this time I had a serious leg infection, I was not able to walk. My leg below the knee was almost twice the normal size, Blue, Yellow and Red. doctors but into my shinbone twice. I watched them do it. No pain. They then poked a large string in the bone. at the lazarett there were beds with fresh white linen! I could not believe such a thing still existed. By that time I had lost 25 pounds since the front. I had a blank, empty stare and numbed senses. In august of 1945 they shipped us back to Kiel. My leg was almost O.K. I could walk. We had to stand in lines of 10 while British soldiers took our pocket knives, wrist watches, fountain pens, ect. But they did not take our decorations. Otherwise they treated us well. There was enough food to go around, no barbed wire. I was home again by september of 1945. Our house was destroyed. We lived with my aunt for a while whose house was only half destroyed. Osnabrueck, My hometown was 73% flattened. My parents had thought I was dead because the did not receive a letter from me in 8 months. After the war I was absolutely lost standing in the streets. The trench had become my home, There was protection and safety in those holes! No longer necessary? Nonsense! I was unable to understand. My mother often told me in the morning, Last night you were moaning again. I don't remember that at all. Almost 5 months without a shower, unshaven and with lice. The Russians had the material, we did not.

My experience is by no means unique or unusual! Memories of death and destruction and blood..And today we live in almost paradise! During the retreat the ears had to be trained to hear the typical blop-blop of the russian mortar shells. 5 seconds to 10 seconds. It was time to find cover. Infantry weapons are useless against tanks. If someone had told me 60 Years ago in the trenches: Gustav relax, you will survive this war, you will be home again, In a few years you will be living in the U.S.A, in Pennsylvania, Get married, have 2 daughters, one in Florida, and one in Zurich, And You'll be working for the U.S Navy in Indianapolis and that you will receive a pension from the U.S Government, I would have thought. WHAT HOGWASH! But it did happen.Sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction} I met my wife on a one day bus trip from Dubrovnik into the mountains in 1957. Imagine a single girl of 33 from America, after picking up a VW beetle in wolfsburg traveling alone in Yugoslavia. A friend suggested the trip she said. I was on vacation there, Its cheap, Sunny, Mountains) She had a roadmap and I asked her where we were. It was a little more complicated than that. Pure chance? No, It was meant to be. Does it sound romantic? Yes, I assure you the years were not easy! Life never is.

Before going to bed most nights, I think back and reflect. Nobody can storm in my bedroom and yell, The russians are coming, Wake up, Fast, Get out into the trench behind the M.G. They are going to kill us all! And that is wonderful!

Added notes:

Fall of 1944: lack of gas and diesel fuel. Trucks and cars were "running" on CO from a wood burning "Holzkocher" in a 5 foot high 2 foot diameter "stove" located behind the drivers cabinet. Dried hard wood about 4x4x4 were partially burned then used as fuel. There was a hand operated blower for faster burning. A very messy, slow, unreliable, inefficient practice. Trucks would have ten sacks of these wooden cubes in the loading area. The other option, Horses. The latest soldiers joke in fall of 1944: We have a new super tank, a Real beauty: 70 tons with a heavy gun that can knock out any allied tank, Heavy armor plates, and in the back there are 20 guys sawing wood.

When we were discharged in Sept. 1945 Everyone got an information packet telling us that Germany, Hitler had started the world war, Millions had been killed, ect. Also, Germany would never again be able to star another war. And German industry would be dismantled. no armed forces allowed, Forever: Morgenthau Plan (oct.44) 5 Years later west Germany was building tanks again. Became a member of NATO, For defense of course against the soviet union which the Germans had invaded twice in one generation and inflicted immense death and destruction. As my dad always used to say. "We have to howl with the wolves."

My Story,
Gus.

[Steiner]

Thanks very much for sharing that with us.

[John Wilson]

[quote="Jugendkrieger"]Can you illustrate the glaring wrongs to me? This is straight from the veterans hand.

I read it quickly and noticed the americanisms within it, I suppose the gentleman has resided in the americas for a part of his life and has taken on some of the English language and all of its puzzling turns.

[Jugendkrieger]

Sounds like a a load of crap john. If you don't have any thing constructive to add, or even a valid comment, I'd stay out of it. That seemed like making noise for making noise's sake.

[John Wilson]

Steady on son, I've read lots of old German accounts from previous times, and they generally dont use modern terms, unlike yours. As I said, it's the americanisms in the text which I find a bit strange, but going over it again, if the gentleman has resided in the US for a number of years.....it's understandable.

[Hoffman Grink]

Sounds like a a load of crap john. If you don't have any thing constructive to add, or even a valid comment, I'd stay out of it. That seemed like making noise for making noise's sake.

Harsh............ rude even.

[kiler]

Here is more of his story at "Der erste Zug" site:

http://www.dererstezug.com/VetRewwer.htm